


we've survived (but now we're living)

by agentcalliope



Series: we've survived (if only surviving was the same thing as living) [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Hopeful Ending, Humor, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 00:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11302164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentcalliope/pseuds/agentcalliope
Summary: Oceans and galaxies, strands of code that were never real. They've survived more.(and now, they're living)





	we've survived (but now we're living)

**Author's Note:**

> the fluff part of Fitzsimmonsforlife's fanfic contest, from the prompt "what makes you think this was an accident?"

* * *

 

 

She can’t help but laugh.

 

She laughs, and she laughs, and she laughs, even when Fitz turns around with Maisie in his arms, realizes she’s there, and looks at her with his eyes wide.

 

The entire surface of the kitchen-- including Fitz, and their little girl-- is covered in, what Jemma hopes is, flour.

 

“Mummy!” Maisie screams with glee, reaching out towards her, beginning to clap her hands together and a cloud of white forming in the air.

Jemma sets down her briefcase and walks to them, still laughing, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Darling! What happened?”

She takes Maisie from Fitz and hugs the little girl tight, eyes squeezing shut for a moment, breathing in her daughter’s scent, before looking at Fitz.

 

He’s biting his lip, trying not to grin.

“We may have gotten into a little accident. "He says as he shrugs. "We were going to make cookies.” 

“Mummy! I ripped open bag and poured it on Daddy!” Maisie bounces, giving Jemma a toothy smile.

“I see.” Jemma clucks her tongue. “Did you pour it on yourself, too?”

“No!” Maisie screeches. “Daddy did that!”

 

Jemma glances up at Fitz who shakes his head, flour falling from his hair. He reaches over and tickles Maisie’s stomach, laughing.

“Traitor! We were gonna tell Mummy it was an accident!”

“Mummy wouldn’t believe that,” Maisie giggles. “Mummy knows _everything_!”

Jemma kisses the tip of her nose. “Mummy does know everything—just like Mummy knows that you need a bath!”

-

“Okay, but how did the flour get on the top of the fridge?” Fitz whispers in shock, standing on his toes and blindly wiping the top of the refrigerator.

“You tell me— _I_ wasn’t here.” Jemma whispers back, wiping down the last of the floor.

“Your daughter has a wicked arm.” Fitz concludes, bringing the towel to his face and inspecting it. “I think we should sign her up for softball lessons.”

“She’s your daughter too.” Jemma adds, rising up from the ground and squeezing past him to get at the cabinets.

“Well, she didn’t get that arm from me.”

 

Jemma rolls her eyes and swats him.

“Maybe,” Jemma pauses, hand still on the cabinet, turning back to face him. “Maybe its from hanging out with Daisy.”

Fitz pauses, too, and meets her gaze.

“It’s definitely Daisy.” He agrees, and then resumes his focus back to wiping the fridge. “Maybe she got her flour-throwing ways from Daisy, too.”

 

Jemma bites her lip and grins, reaching behind her to gather flour from the counter. “No.”

“… No?” Fitz beginning to turn around again.

“No, she definitely gets that from me.” Jemma giggles, throwing the flour right into his face. He coughs, face again covered in white, his eyes squeezed shut before blinking rapidly.

 

“Doctor Doctor Fitzsimmons, I’m shocked.” He says, placing a hand over his heart and looking at her wide-eyed. “You wound me.”

“Don’t worry, Doctor Fitzsimmons.” Jemma nods slowly, moving towards him, molding her body against his and feeling his arms snake around her waist. “I know just the cure.”

 

“You do?” He taunts.

“I do.” She says, and she kisses him.

-

After, when Fitz’s hair is damp from the shower and Jemma smells like lavender, they lie together in bed, and they lie with their hands clasped.

 

She shifts to glance at him and blinks. He smiles at her, letting go of her hand and reaching up to brush away a strand of hair off her forehead before meeting it with his own.

 

“We’ve survived.” She says.

 

“And now, we’re living.” He replies.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks em and leah for again betaing (like, every single time)


End file.
